


Dance

by starr_falling



Series: February Ficlets [8]
Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29303406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starr_falling/pseuds/starr_falling
Summary: One of these days, Tintin was going to give him a genuine heart attack.
Relationships: Archibald Haddock/Tintin
Series: February Ficlets [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139438
Kudos: 22





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: dance.

“May I have this dance?” inquired a breathy voice from behind him. Haddock turned and froze for one long moment. It took every inch of nerves, developed by a lifetime on the unpredictable seas, not to exclaim in shock.

“I would be delighted,” Haddock managed to speak normally as he extended a hand, palm up. The beautiful vision before him placed a delicate hand on his own. He escorted his partner to the dance floor and moved into position on autopilot. He stepped forward as the music started, smiling to try and cover his confusion.

“Tintin,” he whispered once they were safely lost among the crowd. “Why are you? What is? Tintin?”

He would have recognized his dear friend anywhere, but it had been a near thing. Though the same carrot color as ever, Tintin’s hair fell in long curls to his shoulders. Shoulders bared by the long blue evening gown he wore. Haddock tried to keep his eyes locked on ones nearly the same shade as the dress, but it was hard. There was a great deal of pale, flawless flesh on display.

“I’m investigating the marquess,” Tintin whispered, then let out a tinkling laugh. Haddock lead Tintin through a spin, wondering when and where Tintin had learned to follow. “There was only one invitation I could easily get my hands on and not be immediately recognized as an impostor. It called for a bit of a disguise.”

Tintin shrugged as if it was no great matter. After a moment, Haddock had to concede that they had done many far stranger and more dangerous things over the years. Haddock focused on the memories to avoid thinking about the way the neckline of Tintin’s dress had reacted to that movement.

“Ah, the marquess appears to be quite engaged with several ministers,” Tintin said, peering over Haddock’s shoulder. Haddock began guiding their steps to the far side of the dance floor. “Best see if we can get into his office while he’s distracted.”

The music ended just as they reached the edge of the dance floor. Haddock drew back and, out of habit, bent to place a kiss on the hand still nestled within his own. The brush of cool fabric against his lips brought with it the realization of what he was doing.

He looked up at Tintin and found he couldn’t move a muscle, not even to look away. The lad’s eyes were wide, and there was a blush of color high on his cheeks.

“We will be coming back to this,” Tintin’s voice was breathy again, though Haddock suspected it was unintentional this time. “Later. After we’ve done what we need to.”

“Aye,” Haddock said as he stood straight. “Later.”


End file.
